


Nicotine and Bacteria

by welshe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welshe/pseuds/welshe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's too many patterns and someone needs to start a sick fire</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicotine and Bacteria

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of an AU where everyone lives on Earth, although somewhat earlier than the 80's, and the social stigmas still apply. Trolls and human attend the same facilities, and John and Dave are pretty much neighbors.

Dave Strider had finally discovered the reason why he was still stuck in the most redundant of suburbs. The Houston heat blared through the windows and aimed perfectly for his face. He reached for his sunglasses and knocked the covers off the couch. Stiffly he got up on his feet and felt his entire back burn.

The apartment was empty save for the persistent buzz of the refrigerator. The machine continued to erratically hum as Dave attempted to prepare the coffee. Right after he had put in the mix, the device began to sputter and smoke. He fumbled with the cord, pulling it as a thin, black watery substance started to drip over the counter.

The stairs seemed to fall further and further away with each step. Dave fixed the sports bag over his shoulder and checked to see if the door was locked. With a shaking of the doorknob, the teen staggered down and on the pavement. Drifting by the neighborhood, the blank white faces of each house seemed to mimic the next. Their front lawns were exceedingly tidy, and displayed not one fault or error in design. As far as Dave could remember, everything remained perfectly in tact.

 

"Gee," John said. His feet were tangled in the blacktop monkey bars with his glasses hanging comically off his face. Their school lied across the street, exceeding in size compared to the middle school and its park. The younger children placed themselves at a distance from the two, wondering if they would leave before the bell rung.

Swinging himself off the bars, John awkwardly landed on his feet. Dave snickered and picked up his sports bag from the ground. He glanced over his shoulder at the school behind them, and then waved at John. "Feel like you can be late?"

John hesitated before he could muster up a reply. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the other teen started making his way across the park. John checked for his backpack, sweeping it up as he ran towards Dave.

 

"And that's it."

Karkat didn't seem to understand. He didn't comprehend a lot of what the two usually tried to tell him.

The troll muttered something to himself and continued to push his lunch around. It had already gone cold and had rarely ever been appetizing. John nervously grinned at him, and turned towards Dave.

"How many people in this world do you think legitimately hate each other?" Karkat told him.

A small crowd of students passed by them, caught up in their relentless conversation. Dave shifted around and leaned against the table. The empty pair of sunglasses continued to stare at the troll.

Karkat groaned, "Just enough."

John attempted to save the discussion and made a gesture with both his hands. He stifled a laugh, more than obvious this wouldn't be going anywhere. He had suspected the two would have adapted to one another - throw their bitterness aside just for a moment and maybe even speak.

"But Dave's right," John said.

Dave continued, "It sort of make sense to you. It makes sense to John. But obviously isn't not doing anything for you."

Karkat sighed and prodded the table with the plastic knife. The utensil bended, and flicked into the troll's shirt. Suddenly he shoved his entire tray away and gave the two others a concerned stare.

"Dave fucking Strider," He started. "You are the most nauseating mundane human being on this campus." A few distance looks were shot at the troll as his voice rose. "That plan is ridiculous."

John interjected, "I think it's kind of -"

"Egbert." Karkat hushed.

Getting up from the table, Dave pulled at his uniform collar. The two watched him curiously as he picked up his sports bag. They hadn't touched their food for the majority of the break, their focus much more concentrated on what the other had to say. When someone in the circle had to speak their mind, at least one of them would have to listen. It wasn't exactly how John planned their friendship with the troll to form.

"Hey, it's cool." Dave told him. "For the best, right?"

John shyly removed himself as well, standing next to Dave as Karkat leaned into his elbow. His yellow eyes glared up at them, however Dave couldn't quite tell if he was either making a decision or judgment. John wanted to catch a glimpse at the other when they left, making for the back of the schoolyard.

 

The amount of space readily available was ridiculous. In front of the two teens was the rear of the parking lot and surrounding it was an torn up field. Earlier in the semester it had gone to better use, however eventually its appearance grew tarnished and weary. Once Dave had taken John to it and had spend the rest of the evening crawled up the in spine of a tree.

He fell and ended up with his arm in a cast for a week.

Dave tapped his fingers against the metal drums dragged through the thicket. The grass had already grown over the forgotten equipment and for the most part kept it hidden away from sight. Not far off the two could hear the occasional shrill yelling of one of the sports team. John tugged at his collar as the heat continued to relentlessly beat down on them.

"This is the one," Dave groaned as he pushed the drum. It had taken more effort than he had initially estimated to drag it off its side. The drum shook for a moment as a flood of rain water suddenly poured out of it. The teen carefully stepped back as the legs of his jeans was splattered with the substance.

"A little impractical, Dave" John said. He stood on his toes at a distance, gazing over the others shoulder as he attempted to fix the drum. Dave knelt down his knee and brought up the other drum, this time splashing the collected water over his sleeve.

The sunlight flashed over his sunglasses as Dave sat the two empty barrels side by side. At one time or another they had contained something, what that was wasn't exactly of any particular interest to either of them. However the fact that it had rained the previous night would make their objective must more difficult to attain.

Dave reached into one of his pocket and took out a small utensil. Just about the size of a finger he could easily hide it from bare sight. A clicking sound was made when he pressed against its handle as a short funnel emerged out the end. He pressed it again, this time a small flame flickering about.

"Oh," John murmured. He sat down against the trunk of a tree and pressed his knees against his chest. "I guess we're not doing that to day."

"Too bad." Dave replied. A cigarette packet was taken out of his other pocket, and was fumbled with until it managed to open. He slid a smoke out of the pack, glancing over at John before aptly putting it away. "Maybe tomorrow, then."

The cicadas broken out into a series of chirps, which turned into wails, and then eventually an obtrusive buzz. Dave leaned against the trees besides John and idly exhaled the smoke from the his mouth. It was clumsily done and caused him to break out into a fit. After he had finished, he picked the cigarette up to lips again and took another drag.

"You know that isn't really good for you," John yawned.

Dave took another dragged and exhaled, "Guess so. What else?"

John uncurled his legs and dug his fists the grass. He stared up at Dave as the cloud of smoke continued to linger around him. The cigarette had a distinct smell, something between burnt wood and a dusty apartment.

"Maybe we should just head back to class."

"Hey John,"

Dave flicked the ashes off the butt of the cigarette into one of the empty drums and gazed up. John could catch the reflection of the clouds drift by on the teen's sunglasses as he stood there. The two remained still, when the silence was suddenly interrupted by the cry of a bird.

"You ever tried this?" Dave exhaled another ball of the smoke.

John replied, "I'm not really interested, Dave."

John hadn't considered a lot of things. He could remember one day after class Karkat took him aside and told him in his most concise voice: You honestly don't need to go through all that trouble, he said. There's a better chance it'll just knock your right off your ass instead of helping. Only a day later after he told him that John spotted the troll gather with the trouble student Makara.

Makara was too different. He just never seemed right in either Dave's or his eyes. It wasn't the elaborate amount of facial make up he wore, but just its basic complexity. Just conceiving the notion that such a rambunctious character may spend all the time in the world on such a useless practice. Someone like that just couldn't be that diligent and precise, John decided.

Of course the troll's had their own chain of conventions utterly foreign to the human student population. It wasn't a kind of segregation that would've been established naturally; it was molded and shaped. It had to be carefully managed over the flames, whoever brave enough to carry it had to keep an eye out for any stray embers.

John rubbed his right hand, feeling over the bandages tightened against his palm. Karkat and his group had invited him and Dave to go dumpster diving. They had brought a new face with them that time around, a kid named Nitram. His head had been practically buzz shaved and his horns were well on their way to becoming his most iconic and distinguishing feature.

Except they couldn't take their eyes off his legs. The kid was a cripple, but seemed to lack the mere understanding, or the essence or what that actually meant. Dave had gotten a few less than deserved laughs out of the troll as he just sat and watched besides John. Makara was the first to go in, fetching what appeared to be some hideously stricken table cloth.

Karkat told Dave to go next, prodding him along the alley towards the massive metallic box. It had only taken him a moment to find something worthy without having to pry through the accursed dumpster. The lighter he fished out was a Ronson, free of any cracks or unwanted blemishes. First thing he did after he lifted himself out of container was call John over, carefully cradling his treasure in his hands.

The other three were preoccupied with other matters as John approached the sunglasses wearing teen. The cripple had given him a precarious glances from his wheelchair, then turned away back to the other two trolls. John stared down at Dave's hands, when he suddenly pulled open the head of the lighter.

John remembered making a shrill, awkward noise when he first caught glimpse of the open flame. It was the smallest thing, however had managed to skim over the boy's right hand down his wrist. He skidded back on his feet, batting his arm down at his pant leg.

"Fuck." Dave muttered. He slid the lighter into his pocket, watching as John frantically hopped from one foot to another. Both of them suddenly decided to flee, leaving the trolls to wonder exactly what had happened. Dave told John to be quiet as he brought him upstairs into his apartment and stuck his hand under the running water. His older brother didn't bother to ask as John ended up spending the rest of the day with his right hand clumsily wrapped up, idly watching Dave ended up showing him their record collection.

 

A soccer ball suddenly rolled past the two drums, causing them to shake as it came to a stop. John and Dave glanced at the playing field hidden behind the mesquite trees, awaiting to see if a stray athlete would emerge. A few minutes passed, and Dave took another drag when no one finally arrived.

Suddenly Dave knelt down besides John, his head down to his shoulders and his shades staring back at the other. John caught his reflection in the sunglasses, staring at him as Dave grabbed his shoulder.

For a one perfectly singular moment John Egbert had finally discovered why he still found himself stuck in the most redundant of suburbs. Dave bit at the side of his mouth, then his lip, and quickly slipped in his tongue. In all honestly he could had probably prepare himself better for this. John remained silent, arching his back as the other grabbed his bandaged right wrist. Suddenly be began to cough as Dave exhaled, pulling himself away and stood up.

John covered his mouth as he puffed out the cigarette smoke. He spat, and looked at Dave feeling for the Ronson his pocket.

"Okay, now we go back." He said.


End file.
